


Bright Blush of Day

by MooseFeels



Series: In the Garden of Your Love [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Flowers, Human Castiel, Mild Angst, Underage - Freeform, castiel is a teenager, gardener!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-12 20:10:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MooseFeels/pseuds/MooseFeels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written from prompt by subbycas- AU where Dean is the new Milton family gardener who teenager!Castiel is infatuated with.<br/>All her idea, just my dumb words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bright Blush of Day

He's so gentle- painfully so.

Castiel watches him from his window, from behind the cold linen curtains. Watches the way his hands knot under the worn gloves. Watches the way he wipes sweat from his brow. Watches the grin and brightness at a job well done. Castiel watches the way he guides ladybugs to leaves, eases plants into their spaces.

Dean Winchester, the family gardener, is nurturing and it makes Castiel's heart hurt in a way he can't explain.

His mother says he’s blossoming, but blossoming into what exactly Castiel couldn’t explain. His voice has dropped deeply and he’s longer and taller than he remembers. Shorter than him, though. When Castiel brings him water in the late afternoons and he stands, Castiel is physically smaller. He nests into his space, or he could if he would let him.

Castiel can’t want to though, that’s ridiculous. He’s so much older, so much bigger, so much stronger. Castiel is sixteen, and the gardner is an adult.

He trots off to the back of the property at the end of the day. The lights along the garden come on. Castiel’s parents go to bed.

And Castiel, on that late spring night, comes down the stairs in his shirt and pajama bottoms and touches the flowers.

The roses have come in early- pink and white buds just beginning to open into the lush, round bowls of bloom. The bulbs beneath are dying. Sprays of Queen Anne’s Lace sprout nearby. Jasmine rambles, bright green, over the fence nearby- it will bloom in the hot summer in bright yellow blossoms.

Castiel’s fingers worry over the edges of the flowers and the dark green stems. They catch a thorn, suddenly, and he hisses in pain.

“You okay?” Someone asks nearby, and Castiel turns, and it’s him.

He’s broad and muscled in the moonlight and the low light around the garden. His eyes are dark and kind- the green of the moss that climbs the trees that edge the yard. He’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt. His hair is mussed. His feet are bare. Dean Winchester, and he looks concerned.

“I,” Castiel starts and coughs, “A thorn caught my finger. It’s not too bad.”

Dean smiles gently. “I have bandages, in the cottage. Do you need one?”

Castiel looks down at his finger- the cut is small and it’s already stopped bleeding. He shouldn’t go. He knows. This is a mistake and Dean is just being kind. Castiel bites his lip. “I think,” he says softly, “it’s not that bad. Thank you though.” He gestures to the garden. “You do beautiful work.”

Dean shrugs. “I do alright. Nothing to write home about.”

Castiel looks back at the garden. “No,” he says, “no, really. It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

A light goes on upstairs, in the house. They both look at the window for a long moment before Castiel turns back to Dean. “I’m sorry,” he says. “Goodnight.”

And he walks away and he hates himself.

There’s a crown of flowers on his doorknob the next morning. Tightly woven, well balanced. Pinks and beiges and greens and browns.

Castiel holds it tight in his hands, heart racing.

He slides it onto his head before he heads out to the garden to sit in the sun and read.

It’s dangerous. It’s wrong. Nothing good will come of it.

They’re going to do it anyway.


End file.
